[identity profile] lslaw.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] writing_shadows
I was in Vegas for a week; hated it.

I went to a casino - one of the smaller ones, without quite so much noise and light - and won a small fortune from people who looked at me and saw something that scared them. I played for five hours straight just hoping someone would call my bluff, just once. I faked a tell, very subtly, and still no-one went for it.

Stupid, miserable meatjockeys; crawling around me, so scared I might step on them. God how I want to. Men puffing up like toads to seem big while their eyes scream; women smile with their lips while their teeth clench so hard in fear I can almost hear them grind.

I miss home. I miss people who know me enough to not be scared all the time.

Fervent lips, soft skin; touching without retreating. Lay a hand on them here and they flinch, even the Lost; especially the Lost.

I met the 'Chairwoman of the Board', the Elephantine President of Vegas, and even she was scared of me.

Hollow glamour in a Hollow carved with Glamour; bodyguards and hangers on enough like pets to make skin crawl. Want to beat her down, breaker her tower of steel and glass and she knows it. Recoils from the rage in my eyes.

Now, I know, the rational part of me, that she could have snapped me like a twig; wouldn't even have had to get the elemental behemoth on her right hand to do it for her. She's scared because she doesn't know that; doesn't know anything except that I'm a stranger in her Court, with shadowed eyes she can't bring herself to meet. I'm an unknown quantity in a world where she has fought to bring order.

Snivelling, craven wretches! Make them crawl before me!

I was very polite.

Hate them, so much; aping Them, ruling with a high-hand, these... lords of democracy; champions of the people.

One of them came to test me; to call me out.

Smash him! Grind him to mud beneath my hooves!

I hit him once, as hard as I could. I'm not the world's mightiest mortal, but the force of my fury tore his flesh and that seemed dramatic enough to give him pause. The rest was pure front; it helped that I didn't have to fake my desire to kill him and every last one of his strutting, domineering kind.

Beat them! Rip them! Rule them!

I am so scared of becoming like them.

I can feel my inner demon every day, roaring to be let loose; to rage and scream and rule. To...

Drive my enemies before me, and hear the lamentations of their women.

Its fury terrifies me, but not because it is alien or incomprehensible; because I know that it is mine. That I, or a part of me at least, wants to crush the jeweled thrones of the world beneath my steel-shod hooves and wear a crown upon a troubled brow. And I'd be good at it; I'm getting better at political theory and I can do sexy-brooding like no-one else I know.

But I won't.

Really.

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